


Asylum

by hailingstars



Series: Febuwhump [26]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Asylum, Books, Coming of Age, Febuwhump, Library, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, first kill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 18:32:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17944925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailingstars/pseuds/hailingstars
Summary: Peter takes comfort in the library at the Avengers compound in the weeks after his first kill during a successful Avengers mission.





	Asylum

**Author's Note:**

> This is the one where I project my love for books onto Peter Parker. Seriously though books are so special to me, so this one is pretty self-indulgent.
> 
> Also! Tomorrow the prompt was supposed to be suicide, and I say supposed to be because I'm going to post a story, but I'm even going to pretend that's what it's going to be about. I'm going to do a ghost story instead!!

The library became Peter’s asylum. 

It was huge, just like the rest of the compound, but somehow cramped, unlike the rest of the compound. As he wandered the aisles, as he zigzagged through shelves towered high with books, he marveled at the idea of the space being filled with so much information, with so many stories. He didn’t know why he took so much comfort from that, other than the obvious reason. 

It was the most efficient way to escape and distract himself from his life as an Avenger. It’d been his dream as a high schooler, something that made him wish his days away, but now he was nineteen and he understood the cost being an Avenger.

He stood on his tippy-toes and blindly chose a book. It didn’t matter which one. He was in the classics section, and he was working his way through all of them. 

Peter turned the book over in his hands. _Catcher in the Rye_. He’d read it in high school, but he’d been too busy dreaming about graduating and becoming an Avenger to enjoy it. Further he got from graduation, the more he realized this was true for most of his high school life. If he could go back for just one day, he’d appreciate it more in that twenty-four hours than his entire four years at Midtown put together.

When he’d been daydreaming about being an Avenger, he never considered that the cost might be too high. 

With the book in his hand, he retreated to the back of the library, and crawled underneath a table by the windows. He sat there, out of sight to the world, and cracked open the lens to another.

He didn’t make it past the first page. A loud boom made him jump, hit his head on the table above him and drop the book to the floor. Before he questioned the source of the noise, Tony poked his head into his hideout.

“Really kid? You skip our training session to hide in the library and _read_?” 

“I’m not hi –“ said Peter, then stopped. “Oh, oh yeah, I forgot we had one today.”

Tony stared at him funny, then dropped down to the floor and scooted under the table to join him. They were two grown men, sitting under a wooden study table, and Peter never felt more like a kid. He wanted to vanish into the wall behind him. He knew the onslaught of questions were coming.

“Okay,” said Tony. He rubbed his hands together, then placed them on the carpet. “I’m gonna take the bait. What’s going on?” 

“Nothing. I just… forgot,” said Peter. He pulled on a smile. “My memory must be failing me in my old age.”

“That joke isn’t funny when the person saying it is decades younger than you.”  

“Maybe that was the joke.”

Tony didn’t look amused.

A low tremor of thunder rumble and shook the wall Peter leaned against, and with that, came the sound of rain pitter-pattering against the windows. It accompanied the sound of the compound’s air conditioning to make the most perfect sounding quiet. It was a shame Tony was here to ruin with the noise of his questions. 

“It hasn’t just been today,” said Tony. “You’ve been acting weird ever since…” He trailed off, seem to think about it. “Is this about the last mission?”

“No- “

“-because it happens to everyone. It’s part of the job. We all lose people we wish we could save.”

“That isn’t what happened,” said Peter. It was the first time he felt trapped in the library. The very first time his hiding spot under the study table felt like a prison or interrogation cell instead of an asylum. “I – I killed him.” 

Peter looked at his knees and waited for Tony to agree with him. He had no other choice. They were both men of science and logic and truth. They were both there when Peter killed Norman Osborn.

More thunder crackled, and lightening flashed across the carpet on the library’s floor. Inside the flashing light flickered the image of the Green Goblin. It was gone in seconds, having only stayed just long enough for Peter to shake his head and see clearly again.

“You did what you had to do,” said Tony. “It was him, or a whole lot of innocent people and probably some of your teammates. You’re an Avenger, and risk assessment is part of the job. You made the right call, Peter.”

“We should be able to save everyone,” he told Tony. That was what he day dreamed about in English class when he should have been reading. Not killing. “Put the crazies in jail and rehabilitate them _and_ keep civilians safe.” 

Tony laughed, gentle not loud, and the sound of it was as good as rain. It brought the quiet back. It turned the table back into an asylum. 

“Norman Osborn being rehabilitated? There’s your joke.”

Peter surprised himself by allowing a smile. His escape into books and stories of other people, with foreign problems, was to distract his thoughts away from Norman Osborn, away from the way his eyes looked when life left them. Peter let himself picture him again, flying through New York City’s skyline with schemes that would terrorize the lives of others.

Maybe Tony was right. 

“I’m proud of ya, kid,” said Tony. He reached across the space and ruffled his hair. “You have good instincts. A bad sense of comedy, but you’re a good Avenger. Eventually though, you’re gonna have to come out from under this table.”

Peter grabbed the book on the floor. “But- “

“Books can actually leave the library, you know,” said Tony. “Or here’s an even better thought. Did you know can access the library on that StarkPad I gave you? I know. The things they can do with technology these days, it’s crazy.” 

“It’s better in here,” said Peter. “I dunno. Maybe I am hiding.” 

“Yeah,” said Tony. He’d known it all along, and it was a frustrating how often he ended up being right. Tony scooted backwards, exiting Peter’s own personal shelter from the real world. “We’re all out there. When you’re ready.”

Tony stood up and disappeared.

Peter listened as his footsteps and his heartbeat grew more and more faint. He was shocked Tony actually left him alone. Before, when Peter was younger, he would’ve stayed and badgered him until he eventually got up and came out of hiding, but apparently not anymore.

He supposed that was another product of being a year older than seventeen. He needed Tony’s nudge more than him holding his hand, needed to figure things out for himself, and Tony understood that and gave him space to grow into it. He appreciated that, but still, he was going to miss the hand holding the same way he missed his high school English classes. 

He hadn’t started missing either of those until they were gone. 

Peter picked the book up from the floor and flipped it open. He got halfway through before he realized he didn’t want to live life under the table anymore. He exited the library, with the book in hand, and found the common room. 

It buzzed with Avengers, but none of them noticed Peter entering the room, except Tony.

He raised his glass to him, from his chair by the fireplace, and took an exceptionally long sip. Peter joined him, not in his whiskey drinking, but sat in the chair next to him and opened his book to the correct page. They didn’t speak. Peter turned a page. Tony took a sip. It was the best kind of quiet, and a better asylum than some table in the library.


End file.
